Well, I knew it was coming and I've been waiting for one for years...Sam's got a concussion.
#1 is 26 and began sports at 4, just a couple of broken bones and some various sprains, bruises and lumps. #2 began playing sports at 4 and had some broken bones, avulsions, weird calcifying things, sprains, etc. # 3 began playing sports at 5 and has had some similar experiences until his last game of his last year in high school...CONCUSSION, brain smack, crack on the noggin.
We were joking in the stands, "wow, someone got lit up, you can hear the helmets cracking up here." Little did I know it was my own #3 getting "lit up". He then proceeded to play the rest of that quarter and the second quarter too. Finally, the score was too high and all the starters were pulled. He was the joker that kept getting the offsides call - he forgot what the count was. He tried to run out with the kick-off team - didn't do that all season. He ran out to the field to play his position but - someone was already out there taking his place. If he wasn't so peculiar in the first place maybe someone would have noticed a change in his behavior but he's such a great, big goof...didn't notice.
He kept getting weirder as the evening wore on and I took him to the "bump and bruise" clinic and sure enough concussion.
Now he sprawls out on the couch and sleeps - wait a minute, that's what he usually does. So he gets dizzy when he tries to do a physics problem, who doesn't. So, he's really, really tired, who isn't? And he has a real bad headache...all I can say, get used to it, real life can be a real live headache.
So, he's a bit loopy. I feel kinda bad because the first thing I thought when I heard it was a concussion was, "shoot, he got a "B" in physics and pre-cal; this isn't going to help the next quarter grades." He'll be smarting off before long so I'm going to enjoy while it lasts.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Lots of Lovely Leaves
Everyone agrees; autumn is beautiful. The colors are extraordinary, the temperatures delightful, the color of the sky clear and true and the smell of leaf smoke tantalizing. Why, oh why then can't we just leave the fallen leaves where they land?
Heaped up lovely lumps of gold, mounding in my front yard. They look just perfect but...when they are wet I slip and bust my rear, when they are wet they destroy my lawn, when the are wet they make mold and make my allergies scream. But when they are dry...they just blow on down the road. This is the American, rural way of life. Take care of it if it stays in your yard longer than a couple of days. Otherwise, just let the wind carry it on down the road, literally.
I have 3 large maples in my front yard, lots, and lots, and lots of leaves. In about a week we will have a Butler family whine-a-thon when I demand the leaves come up. As lazy as we are we will spend about an hour trying to figure out an easier way to move the leaves from the front lawn to the back field. Seems like just raking them up would suffice but, NO, we have to have a tarp and the lawn mower mowing over little hedgerows to make leave mulch which is so thick we have to rake it anyway. After about 3 hours of leaf wrangling we give up, rake it along the fence "to keep down the weeds next spring" and call it a day. We are pathetic and I have the pathetic lawn to prove it.
Oh well, I still love autum and maybe just maybe the wind will come up and blow all on down the road.
Heaped up lovely lumps of gold, mounding in my front yard. They look just perfect but...when they are wet I slip and bust my rear, when they are wet they destroy my lawn, when the are wet they make mold and make my allergies scream. But when they are dry...they just blow on down the road. This is the American, rural way of life. Take care of it if it stays in your yard longer than a couple of days. Otherwise, just let the wind carry it on down the road, literally.
I have 3 large maples in my front yard, lots, and lots, and lots of leaves. In about a week we will have a Butler family whine-a-thon when I demand the leaves come up. As lazy as we are we will spend about an hour trying to figure out an easier way to move the leaves from the front lawn to the back field. Seems like just raking them up would suffice but, NO, we have to have a tarp and the lawn mower mowing over little hedgerows to make leave mulch which is so thick we have to rake it anyway. After about 3 hours of leaf wrangling we give up, rake it along the fence "to keep down the weeds next spring" and call it a day. We are pathetic and I have the pathetic lawn to prove it.
Oh well, I still love autum and maybe just maybe the wind will come up and blow all on down the road.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Hmm, Serious Sunday
Serious is not something I do very well but I do have a serious side. Today though I've missed my husband. "Missed" is not the right word because that sounds like I've misplaced him, but I know precisely where he is. I can't think of another way to describe it but once someone leaves this life there is a void that remains because that space could only be filled by that individual...does that make sense.
So I will tell you why I'm "missing" Pat Butler. 1. He was the only one I could talk and talk and talk to and get no reaction, advice, criticism or feedback; he simply was acting like he was listening but he wasn't. This may seem weird to you but it worked for us; I needed to vent to understand how I was going to handle something and he could look interested but actually be going over the sports schedule, work schedule, movie schedule in his brain. 2. The kids need more cheerleaders than me. Nobody can uplift the kids better than their parents. Don't get me wrong here, we have an awesome community (read really small township) family who are really supportive but it just isn't quite the same. I wish Pat was there when we sent W off to the MTC and there when he honorably returned; I wish he could have been there when R walked off with 17 awards at her Senior night recognition and when she gave a class address at her commencement from nursing school; I wish he was here to see S on the Homecoming Court and playing football like a madman (just like he did) and I wish he could have gotten to know J the son he'd never met because he died. There are just some things no one else can do. I've tried to fill in the blank as best as I could but it still isn't the same.
I wish he was here so I could be more of a mother to the family instead of the chronically fatigued, vile spewing monster who rises at 4 a.m. to growl her way through another day. But he's not here though truly I can feel him around at times. It's weird but I know he goes on vacation with us and has a great time (he always had a great time on vacation.), he watches S from the sideline (I swear I see him pacing the out of bounds line each home game, he could never find an away game to save his life), and I know he is extremely excited for the lives W and R are living.
Oh well, we live the life we've got and our life is incredible just the way it is. Very different with very different challenges but undeniably magnificent. (I could have thrown a lot of sarcastic humor in this post but I was being serious for Sunday. Maybe I will re-write it for Maniac on Monday ;0)
So I will tell you why I'm "missing" Pat Butler. 1. He was the only one I could talk and talk and talk to and get no reaction, advice, criticism or feedback; he simply was acting like he was listening but he wasn't. This may seem weird to you but it worked for us; I needed to vent to understand how I was going to handle something and he could look interested but actually be going over the sports schedule, work schedule, movie schedule in his brain. 2. The kids need more cheerleaders than me. Nobody can uplift the kids better than their parents. Don't get me wrong here, we have an awesome community (read really small township) family who are really supportive but it just isn't quite the same. I wish Pat was there when we sent W off to the MTC and there when he honorably returned; I wish he could have been there when R walked off with 17 awards at her Senior night recognition and when she gave a class address at her commencement from nursing school; I wish he was here to see S on the Homecoming Court and playing football like a madman (just like he did) and I wish he could have gotten to know J the son he'd never met because he died. There are just some things no one else can do. I've tried to fill in the blank as best as I could but it still isn't the same.
I wish he was here so I could be more of a mother to the family instead of the chronically fatigued, vile spewing monster who rises at 4 a.m. to growl her way through another day. But he's not here though truly I can feel him around at times. It's weird but I know he goes on vacation with us and has a great time (he always had a great time on vacation.), he watches S from the sideline (I swear I see him pacing the out of bounds line each home game, he could never find an away game to save his life), and I know he is extremely excited for the lives W and R are living.
Oh well, we live the life we've got and our life is incredible just the way it is. Very different with very different challenges but undeniably magnificent. (I could have thrown a lot of sarcastic humor in this post but I was being serious for Sunday. Maybe I will re-write it for Maniac on Monday ;0)
Monday, September 21, 2009
...it wasn't my fault
Well, I love getting this kind of phone call, "Mom, I'm alright, nobody's hurt, it wasn't my fault but - I ran into the curb and popped the two tires on the passenger side of the car ("were you using your phone?" "NO" [this turns out to be not quite true] - I learn the truth because her 2 brothers were along for the ride.); I hit a monster truck but the truck didn't even have a scratch and your van door still opens; I didn't wake you up (because it was 4 flippin' o'clock in the morning and you would have skewered me) but I hit a cow, it was an angus and it was so dark I didn't see it standing in the road; I didn't get a ticket but I hydroplaned into the back of a car and you were right I needed to leave earlier, oh yeah, it was a brand new Corvette and the recent phone call of "Mom, I'm alright but I was on 75 and Wagner Ford ("Do NOT travel on that section of 75 because there is too much construction, too many drivers driving hell-bent for destruction, and there are too many police, her mother said".) and I kind of ricocheted back and forth across 3 lanes of traffic and I think my car is totalled(why didn't we get the gap insurance for the loan?") and the guy that cut me off took off and didn't stop. Thankfully, I'm used to this sort of call from my dear daughter who seems committed to the idea that no car in our home should be dent free.
Don't get me wrong, I'm really, really glad it wasn't worse but I'm 50 years old and I've been in 1 fender bender, 1 (I may have a lead foot but I do not crash into things). I'm very grateful to the people who stopped and helped her and the wonderful good Samaritan who followed the car and got the license plate information for her and called it in with a statement too.
But I'm worried that like a cat, daughter, is using up the nine lives. I hope they can fix her car because a new car is just an accident waiting to happen!
Don't get me wrong, I'm really, really glad it wasn't worse but I'm 50 years old and I've been in 1 fender bender, 1 (I may have a lead foot but I do not crash into things). I'm very grateful to the people who stopped and helped her and the wonderful good Samaritan who followed the car and got the license plate information for her and called it in with a statement too.
But I'm worried that like a cat, daughter, is using up the nine lives. I hope they can fix her car because a new car is just an accident waiting to happen!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Music
I'm so excited....I've got a play list. I love music, love, love, love it. I can appreciate almost all music except the degrading, lowbrow rap. Lots of people love music but I love music because I am unable to make music on my own.
I can't sing, I can't really read music (I know if the notes go up or down but I can't guarantee my voice will follow). I can play NO instrument, nope, nada, zippity-do-dah, not a one. Not even the kazoo.
This is why I love other people's music so much. I had a really hard time coming up with my first playlist. I just wanted 20 songs so I could do it for free. I think I will change them around all the time for the fun of it.
Yippee, now I can make music with my playlist. What a great discovery. And I got it on my blog all by myself. :0)
I can't sing, I can't really read music (I know if the notes go up or down but I can't guarantee my voice will follow). I can play NO instrument, nope, nada, zippity-do-dah, not a one. Not even the kazoo.
This is why I love other people's music so much. I had a really hard time coming up with my first playlist. I just wanted 20 songs so I could do it for free. I think I will change them around all the time for the fun of it.
Yippee, now I can make music with my playlist. What a great discovery. And I got it on my blog all by myself. :0)
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Autumn = FOOTBALL
I love football and futbol, both. My kids have played one or the other and one of them played both. I've been on the front row cheering (read this "screaming like a drug crazed buffoon) for many, many years, okay only 21 years but it seems like many, many.
Now the real confession, I like to watch it better on TV. You get to actually SEE what is going on when it is televised. You can't hear what the coach is yelling at your child and you can yell to your heart's content and no one looks over with a "death glance". You can armchair quarterback to your heart's content. You can be the goalie shouting perfect directions at your teammates because, what the heck, who is going to tell you to shut up?
When you have to watch it live sometimes the action is a bit vague. Because of the this I find it much better to just yell upbeat things at the top of my lungs to all the participants. I love to watch the kids run around and slam into each other while the grown-up kids masquerading as coaches yell nasty things at them. I've shown a LOT of restraint over the years as a sideline parent and coaches still continue to amaze me.
With the final player in the action I've taken a new approach...I take my chair to a lone area, put on my glasses, open my book and read. I glance up occasionally to see if he has taken the field. When he does play I make sure he sees me smiling and giving him the "thumbs up" even if I have to grit my teeth to do it. When the game is over I DO NOT make a tunnel. I just grab the kid and leave.
Of course, number 3 is playing high school football which is a whole different story. LOUD and PROUD is my motto. I want to make sure he hears me down in the huddle with all the swearing I'm sure he's participating in. I want to be sure I have no voice left for the weekend. I leave it all at the game!
With that said, I gotta get this done. BYU and Oklahoma, the Y is down but the game is still young.
Hooray for football and futbol!
I love football and futbol, both. My kids have played one or the other and one of them played both. I've been on the front row cheering (read this "screaming like a drug crazed buffoon) for many, many years, okay only 21 years but it seems like many, many.
Now the real confession, I like to watch it better on TV. You get to actually SEE what is going on when it is televised. You can't hear what the coach is yelling at your child and you can yell to your heart's content and no one looks over with a "death glance". You can armchair quarterback to your heart's content. You can be the goalie shouting perfect directions at your teammates because, what the heck, who is going to tell you to shut up?
When you have to watch it live sometimes the action is a bit vague. Because of the this I find it much better to just yell upbeat things at the top of my lungs to all the participants. I love to watch the kids run around and slam into each other while the grown-up kids masquerading as coaches yell nasty things at them. I've shown a LOT of restraint over the years as a sideline parent and coaches still continue to amaze me.
With the final player in the action I've taken a new approach...I take my chair to a lone area, put on my glasses, open my book and read. I glance up occasionally to see if he has taken the field. When he does play I make sure he sees me smiling and giving him the "thumbs up" even if I have to grit my teeth to do it. When the game is over I DO NOT make a tunnel. I just grab the kid and leave.
Of course, number 3 is playing high school football which is a whole different story. LOUD and PROUD is my motto. I want to make sure he hears me down in the huddle with all the swearing I'm sure he's participating in. I want to be sure I have no voice left for the weekend. I leave it all at the game!
With that said, I gotta get this done. BYU and Oklahoma, the Y is down but the game is still young.
Hooray for football and futbol!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Living a better life one drawer at a time...
Well, I'm fed up with my life as it is. I live in quiet desparation that someone might nonchalantly show up on my door step and I will have to let them in on my secret...my house is trashed. I didn't plan for us to end up this way and I have several reasons/excuses for it. I will just get those out of the way right now:
-very old house with only 2 real closets
-borderline hoarding personality, nearly the whole family, once we own something it becomes an instant heirloom never to be parted with
-working full-time an living with some seriously work impaired youth
-ADHD
With all that being said yesterday I took a baby step forward - cleaned out and threw away stuff in 3 kitchen drawers. I know not impressive but a start and remember the old adage "a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step". Well, my journey through a thousand pieces of clutter began with a very concentrated effort on 3 drawers. With this herculean effort I just might make my goal of having the house clean so when I die the kids can let people in with the casseroles and not have to meet them in the driveway for a drop-off.
While this post is somewhat light-hearted it does in fact address a nagging problem I've struggled with since I began working full-time. I have to work, I'm blessed to have a job to go to, I'm blessed to work where most of my children are all day but I still feel guilty. I feel like every minute I don't work I just want to spend time with my favorite peeps. Work together you say, usually ends up badly, and I'll leave it at that.
I love the Savior so much because He is all about do-overs and second chances. The atonement is all about being able to change at any age. I have to remind myself of that every single day. I can't express what hope that gives me even when I'm having a hopeless day.
-very old house with only 2 real closets
-borderline hoarding personality, nearly the whole family, once we own something it becomes an instant heirloom never to be parted with
-working full-time an living with some seriously work impaired youth
-ADHD
With all that being said yesterday I took a baby step forward - cleaned out and threw away stuff in 3 kitchen drawers. I know not impressive but a start and remember the old adage "a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step". Well, my journey through a thousand pieces of clutter began with a very concentrated effort on 3 drawers. With this herculean effort I just might make my goal of having the house clean so when I die the kids can let people in with the casseroles and not have to meet them in the driveway for a drop-off.
While this post is somewhat light-hearted it does in fact address a nagging problem I've struggled with since I began working full-time. I have to work, I'm blessed to have a job to go to, I'm blessed to work where most of my children are all day but I still feel guilty. I feel like every minute I don't work I just want to spend time with my favorite peeps. Work together you say, usually ends up badly, and I'll leave it at that.
I love the Savior so much because He is all about do-overs and second chances. The atonement is all about being able to change at any age. I have to remind myself of that every single day. I can't express what hope that gives me even when I'm having a hopeless day.
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